


They Say This Should Feel Something Like Fire.

by Nerd_of_Camelot



Series: Gifts for Ghosty [3]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Brotherly Love, Casual Sex, Criminal Masterminds, Denial of Feelings, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, First Dates, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV Third Person Limited, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trust, Trust Issues, not slow burn at all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28063308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/Nerd_of_Camelot
Summary: Given the nature of their work, Dark knew that everyone around him was some manner of awful or desperate.“Jack” seemed, in particular, to fall into the second category.Jack had only joined the operation about eight months ago, dealing with all of Anti’s paperwork ― a blessing, if you asked Dark, because Anti was awful at paperwork. For all his technical prowess, he simply lacked the desire to fill out reports or invoices, and they were sloppy and rushed when he did bother with them. His words, if Dark recalled, had been that he “simply does not vibe with paperwork”. Jack did not appear to have the same issue.Anti’s fondness for him, if nothing else, had led Dark to expect someone of a significantly more ambiguous moral standing than Jack had so far turned out to be, if not someone who was just as much a bastard as Anti was.And Jack was not a bastard.Not that Dark had seen, at least.And Dark was, God help him,curious.--OR, Dark and Anti work together. Anti has brought Jack into the fold, and now that Anti is out of town on an important job, Dark has been tasked with keeping Jack out of the hands of their less upstanding coworkers.
Relationships: Antisepticeye & Darkiplier, Antisepticeye & Sean McLoughlin, Darkiplier/Sean McLoughlin
Series: Gifts for Ghosty [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055663
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	They Say This Should Feel Something Like Fire.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GalaxyGhosty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from "Fire" by Sleeping With Sirens, and i listened to "All I Really Want" by Alanis Morisette like 16 times while writing this lol
> 
> i have no idea where this au came from if i'm honest! but i'm digging it, and i hope y'all do too, especially Ghosty! There's a reference (or a few) to one of my favorite things Ghosty ever wrote in here I'm not sure if folks are gonna get - let me know if you think you got it though!
> 
> i also wrote this using several randomly generated words that caught my eye: auspicious, nebulous, answer, steadfast, and violent. other than that it basically wrote itself. It was originally only going to be one chapter, but, well....

The first truly painful lesson that Dark had ever learned was that even family could betray you.

He had been very young, really, when he’d learned the unfortunate truth about that ― that even those you trusted, those meant to love you, meant to  _ take care of you, _ could and  _ would _ throw you to the wolves if it only meant they might gain something from the exchange ―, no more than six or seven. No more than six or seven, and watching as his sister lied right to their mother’s face and told her it had been him who tracked in all that mud. Him who had snuck out of the house during a storm after being told to stay inside.

The attempt at pinning blame on him hadn’t worked, of course, because he’d been a very obedient child and his sister, nine years old and snobbier than even their father, had never taken well to orders. His mother had known already he hadn’t done it, even if it hadn’t been for the fact that only his sister’s shoes were wet and muddy.

But it had been an important lesson, nonetheless, and one that was reinforced frequently enough by other people’s actions that even as a young and trusting child, he came to regard it as the truth.

The most painful form of it was the betrayal of a lifelong friend.

By then, he was a young man ― not terribly trusting, but still certainly a decent enough person. Critical of those around him, always building a layer of separation to keep his feelings from being hurt when someone inevitably threw him under the bus.

His sister and his friend had married when they were still teenagers. He’d remained close with the friend, with his sister even if she was still every bit the kind of person who would sooner sacrifice him than let herself suffer, and it had all been fine. Good, in fact.

But being lashed out at, made the villain by someone he thought loved him… Being made to take the fall for his sister’s bad behavior by her husband, by  _ his best friend, _ had shattered some part of him. Something important, he thought, because even with the layers of separation, even with the knowledge it would happen and all the preparation in the world, it still sent a spike of pain down to his core.

He hadn’t stuck around long afterwards ― hadn’t stuck around when the feelings hit.

He’d simply slipped away while his friend screamed, while his sister watched on unaffected.

The person he had been before died that day; the delicate and obedient young man who trusted even when given every reason not to, the young man who loved with all his heart, slipped away from the house, and then slipped away from the world.

Although ‘slipped’ may not be the right word, as it was more accurate to say he’d been dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the way by the person he would become.

Dark had long since learned not to trust anyone, now, and even with as much distance as he had from his past he never thought to try again. There was no reason. He shouldn’t open himself up to more pain.

So he didn’t.

And things were, for want of better descriptors, fine.

He wouldn’t say that nothing bad ever happened; in his line of work there was very little margin for error, so things went wrong nearly as often as they went right. He took his failures as gracefully as he possibly could, and it was fine.

Now, certainly, there were many times when taking a page from Celine’s book made things much easier ― blaming the more ridiculous failures on others, for instance, made things very simple for him.

As did keeping his distance and avoiding any relationship that was not strictly professional. He had a few quote-unquote “trustworthy” business partners and contacts, and nothing further… Though he wasn’t so far gone as to deny that the one who called himself “Anti” could very well have made a decent enough friend back when Dark still allowed himself those. He was a despicable bastard, of course, because everyone he worked with was or could be assumed to be, but Anti was at the very least very upfront about it. He saw no point in deception, and with such a hands-on role that required very little in the way of finesse Dark wasn’t surprised.

Certainly in their line of work, deception was beneficial, and especially so to those like himself, who pulled the strings somewhere behind the city’s great curtain, and certainly Anti had employed a measure of it here and there, but ultimately he chose to forego it. And when he did bother with it at all, he never put in the effort it would take to pretend that he wasn’t every bit the despicable bastard that he was.

Dark could respect that, of course.

Still.

Given the nature of their work, Dark knew that everyone around him was some manner of awful or desperate.

“Jack” seemed, in particular, to fall into the second category.

Jack had only joined the operation about eight months ago, shadowing Anti and taking over dealing with all of Anti’s paperwork ― a blessing, if you asked Dark, because Anti was awful at paperwork. For all his technical prowess, he simply lacked the  _ desire _ to fill out reports or invoices, and they were sloppy and rushed when he did bother with them. His words, if Dark recalled, had been that he “simply does not vibe with paperwork”. Jack did not appear to have the same issue; he dealt with every bit of paperwork with a swift and near surgical precision that had, honestly, streamlined the whole process where Anti was concerned.

Dark hadn’t actually met the man face to face until five months ago, and he had really expected…

More.

Jack was small ― not scrawny, necessarily, and not any shorter than Dark was, but  _ small _ nonetheless ―, and he clearly didn’t want to be there. He was pale and vaguely scruffy, carrying dark circles under bright blue eyes and tousled black hair atop his head. The hoodie he was wearing, touting some message or another about “positive mental attitude”, absolutely swallowed him. He avoided eye contact unless he was speaking directly to someone and actually seemed to politely stare past people rather than  _ at _ them.

Not the kind of person Dark expected in this line of work.

Not the kind of person he’d expected after the last three months of detailed mission reports and spotlessly perfect project invoices.

Anti’s fondness for him, if nothing else, had led Dark to expect someone of a significantly more ambiguous moral standing, if not someone who was just as much a bastard as Anti was.

And Jack was not a bastard.

Not that Dark had seen.

And in the five months since then, he really had yet to see any evidence of Jack being anything less than an otherwise upstanding citizen who was desperate enough for  _ something _ that he’d chosen to join Anti. He’d dyed his hair to match Anti’s, wryly smirking at the hacker and sticking his tongue out when attention was brought to it and offering no real explanation. And Dark, really, knew absolutely nothing about him except that Jack was no more his legal name than Anti was Anti’s legal name, or Dark was his, and that he and Anti apparently had a history and that was what had brought him here.

And Dark was, God help him,  _ curious. _

He couldn’t, of course, ask Anti about Jack at all, and he didn’t see Jack often enough to ask directly. Anti would probably try to frame it as something  _ other _ than professional curiosity about the only one on the team he didn’t know anything about, the bastard, and, again, Jack was hardly around often enough. And how would he go about that, anyway?

‘Hi, yes, I need a detailed description of who you are and why Anti dragged you into this.’

Sure.

That always went over swimmingly.

“Come now, Mrs. Massey.” He drawled into the receiver, tapping his fingers on his desk and barely holding back any annoyance, “There’s no reason to be hasty. So long as you do what’s asked, your husband won’t have any trouble being re-elected this year. I’m sure we’d  _ all _ like to see His Honor back in office.”

Dark certainly would, at least. Mr. Massey was easy enough to nudge in a direction that kept Dark and his associates in power. The other candidate currently running would be… Less so. Troubles of a morally upstanding person getting into politics, really.

Mr. Massey did a fine enough job doing what was good for the city, thanks, and if Dark had his way he’d be re-elected until he was too old and senile to be re-elected again. Of course, by then Dark would have moved on ― retired and everything.

_ “If someone finds out―” _ Mrs. Massey hissed, distressed.

“Madam,” He cut her off smoothly, “No one will find out. You have my word. All you need to do is give me the addresses ― I’ll deal with the rest.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d personally intervened in an election. It wouldn’t be the last… Although if Massey lost, he may just have to run  _ himself _ next time.

_ “... Okay,” _ She finally, blessedly, agreed,  _ “Okay, I’ll get them. I trust you, Mr. Warren.” _

“Wonderful. It’s been nice talking, Mrs. Massey. Have a lovely day.”

_ “You too, Mr. Warren.” _

The call disconnected, and Dark sighed.

Politics.

He really would just be better off running for Mayor himself, he thought, rather than dealing with Mrs. Massey’s anxiety and Mayor Massey’s generally annoying personality. But he’d have to balance things a little more carefully to manage, really, and he didn’t feel like rearranging his entire schedule to manage it.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones, taking a deep breath.

Thankfully, he was ahead of schedule for the day.

Nothing else on the agenda until after lunch, and it was barely ten.

The door to his office popped open without so much as a knock, and he nearly jumped at the suddenness. He managed, if only barely, to refrain, as Jack came into view with a laptop bag over his shoulder and one single slip of paper in his hand even as he nudged the door shut behind him with the heel of his sneaker. Appearing overall unenthused, he approached the desk ― not unusual, but it certainly seemed more pronounced today.

As if the lack of a knock wouldn’t have said that on its own.

Jack said nothing as he placed the slip of paper on the desk directly in front of him and stepped back, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket as soon as he was done.

Dark regarded him for a moment before turning his attention to the paper.

_ “babysit jack for me. mute has me and moon out of country for next two months. he’ll do whatever you want him to as long as he gets paid and it doesnt involve blood. great at paperwork. -a” _

He couldn’t help sighing, more at Anti’s lack of any forewarning than anything. He could have texted, called, emailed… But no. He’d sent a handwritten note with Jack.

He regarded Jack as he tossed the paper into the can under his desk, holding eye contact as he picked up the phone once more, “Bing, have another desk brought into my office.”

A shred of tenseness seemed to leave Jack’s shoulders at that.

_ “On it, boss.” _

He sat the receiver back down, hanging up, and continued to eye Jack. “I can’t believe that you apparently put up with Anti outside of working with him. He’s infuriating enough as a coworker.”

Jack cracked a smile, shoulders jolting as if he had almost laughed as he averted his gaze and turned his head, “‘S not so bad when he’s not working, t’be honest. Pretty annoying t’work with, though, I’ll give you that.”

He couldn’t help lifting a brow, “Is that so?”

Jack hummed, nodding and looking at him again, “No less of a shithead, ‘course. Just a little less annoying about it.”

“A more endearing type of shitheadedness, I imagine.”

“Somethin’ like that.” He cracked another smile, removing one hand from his hoodie pocket in order to scratch his nose, “We grew up together. Y’get used to him after a while.”

Well, he supposed that, at least, told Dark he’d been right about Anti apparently being a decent friend. Why else would someone put up with him being a shithead this long? Jack didn’t exactly seem the type to let someone wrong him too many times. Seemed meek at times, sure, but hardly as soft and unwilling to rock the boat as Dark had been when he was younger. And he’d personally gotten to watch Jack go off on Anti a couple of times for his shitheadedness, which only furthered the theory that Jack wouldn’t let himself be wronged..

“I suppose you do,” Dark chose to say, eyes flicking to the door at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Jack swept fairly gracefully out of the general vicinity of the door, eyeing it as it came open and Bing wheeled a desk in on a palette jack. Dark didn’t bother wondering why he hadn’t asked anyone to help him. He simply watched on while Bing situated the desk without even having to ask where Dark wanted it ― by now he’d worked for him long enough to simply know.

Jack did not offer any help, and Dark was admittedly a little glad. Bing was simply a grunt.

Jack, even though he worked  _ for _ Anti, was still generally considered to be higher-up the chain of command. Only Anti, Dark, and Mute stood above him, really, and Anti only because he had been the one to hire him. By now his work had definitely put him higher as far as Dark and Mute were concerned, but Anti was the one who dealt with his paycheck.

… Which was to say, Jack dealt with his own paycheck, because Anti was allergic to paperwork.

And, of course, this was all a roundabout way of saying Dark was glad Jack seemed to know that, or at least held himself in high enough regard that he didn’t submit himself to helping one of Dark’s grunts move a desk.

Only after Bing had wheeled the pallet jack out and a desk chair in and left, closing the door behind him, did Jack move from where he’d temporarily stationed himself.

He got right to work, really ― set up his computer, flicked open a physical file next to it, and began typing.

Dark could respect that.

However, lacking anything to do, himself, until lunch, all he could do was appear busy while he watched Jack.

Because, really, that was all he was doing ― watching him work.

“D’you always stare at people instead of getting any work done?” Jack asked, after nearly an hour, eyes not leaving his work but brows mildly furrowed and tone just a little annoyed.

“My schedule is clear until this afternoon.” Dark informed him, “I do apologize for staring, however. It’s simply interesting to watch you work ― I’ve worked with the others long enough to know none of them seem to… Commit to it the way you do. Particularly any sort of paperwork.”

“I have a degree in management,” The Irishman replied, but the wrinkle in his forehead smoothed out a little as he was saying it, annoyance seemingly gone, “May as well put it to some use.”

“Indeed,” Dark hummed. “Am I distracting you?”

“Not really.” Jack glanced to him, and Dark had the unbidden thought that he’d never once seen Jack look at all well-rested, “I just noticed you’d been looking this way for a while. Believe me, if you were distracting me I’d have told you.”

“A fair point.”

Jack paused in his typing, eyes sweeping over his screen, then the file next to him. Frowning, squinting, he spent a quiet moment scrolling through what he’d already typed, then flipping through the papers he had. Seeming satisfied, he closed the file and put it back in his bag, then closed his laptop.

“There.” He said, “Travel expenses budgeted for, tickets and hotels booked, and headache achieved.” A good-natured snort as he stretched and paused to pop his neck, then looked back to Dark again, “Looks like we’re both free until afternoon. Unless you have something I could be doing?”

“I certainly can’t think of anything. If I get anything else done before one PM I’ll probably finish the whole week ahead of schedule, and that just gets stale.”

“I don’t think a day or two off would hurt you, frankly.” Jack snorted again, “No offense.”

Dark found himself lifting a brow, barely suppressing a  _ smile, _ of all things. “Is that so?”

Jack shrugged, unbothered, not seeming particularly meek at  _ all _ today, “Just thinking Anti might have a point when he says y’ve got a stick up your ass, you know? Few days off might help you get rid of it.”

Dark couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed or insulted, like he usually found himself when Anti threw those sorts of comments his way. Or when anyone else did, for that matter. Instead, all he could do was snort, which was… He wasn’t sure he liked the implications.

“A few days won’t achieve that,” He said, “And any more than a few days of absence on my part and this whole city would fall into chaos.”

Jack quirked his brows and lips as if in agreement. “You off work, Moon outa town, Mute dealin’ with that smear campaign against Saunders? Hell yeah it would.”

“Well, I’m glad  _ someone _ here has some sense.”

He was…

He was  _ joking _ with him.

Dark hadn’t joked with a single other living person since before his falling out with Mark and Celine. He hadn’t joked with Anti, or Mute, or anyone else they worked with. He hadn’t joked with the people he met in the meantime. He didn’t even joke in order to keep up appearances with the people he was manipulating.

And yet, within an hour of being left alone with Jack, they were joking together?

This was far from ideal.

… But he couldn’t help not wanting to stop it.

Jack laughed, pressing his knuckles against his mouth as if to hide the smile.

And Dark thought,  _ oh no. _

They had lunch together, of course, and Dark paid without even considering letting Jack do it mostly on reflex. He made more money in a day than most of the people he dealt with made every week. It wasn’t an issue or an object to him ― he could afford a meal at a nice restaurant for lunch.

But it did get him an odd look from Jack.

Not displeased, but certainly a little suspicious.

“I make more money than you do,” He simply shrugged under the weight of the gaze, “And I’ve gotten used to paying for lunch.”

Jack didn’t seem bothered by the money thing, but thankfully did look a little less suspicious after the explanation.

“For a second there I thought y’might be trying to seduce me.” He commented, dryly.

Dark wanted to sputter, taken aback, or to insist that wasn’t at all what it was. But that would be undignified, and he’d done enough things that could be seen that way today.

So instead, he simply said, “I won’t say it’s not possible, but it wasn’t my intention this time.”

“This time,” Jack repeated, considering, then, “... I can handle that.”

“Lovely.”

They returned to the office to find that Dark’s phone had exactly one text message waiting for him, apparently having arrived at some point after Anti got to the airport while they were at lunch.

_ A: when i say babysit jack, i mean it. smart guy but he definitely needs watched. _

He read it over once or twice, looking for any trace of sarcasm and finding none. Anti did not usually bother with jokes through text… And given his usual reactions to the very idea of Jack being in any sort of real danger, this seemed far too genuine.

Painfully so.

“Your friend seems to think I need to be watching your every move.” He commented, tossing a glance Jack’s way.

Jack rolled his eyes, but said, “Of course he does. He’s been having someone watch me at all times since he started doing this shit.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” He couldn’t help raising a brow.

Jack’s face was impassive, but he met Dark’s gaze when he said, very seriously, “I didn’t say that.”

He hummed. Jack’s brow twitched, and he averted his gaze.

_ D: He is not a child, Anti. _

Anti’s response, surprisingly enough, was immediate.

Must still be at the airport then.

_ A: he’s not. but he hangs out with me. _

_ D: You think he’s stupid enough to talk? Or do you think he’s simply incapable of defending himself against the rest of us. _

The first, Dark would admit, seemed unlikely. There was always the possibility ― someone desperate enough to work for them may well be desperate enough to sell them all out. But Jack seemed genuine, and having grown up around Anti and his clear-cut distaste for deception didn’t leave much room. Always possible, but not particularly probable with Jack.

No more probable than with Anti, really, or Bing, the idiot.

Or Moon.

The second option seemed more likely. The rest of them, particularly the others of Anti’s calibre, were untrustworthy even at the best of times, and not to be allowed near any of the ones who were simply here from desperation. They were as untrusting as Dark was, as well, and far more proactive in vetting others’ trustworthiness.

Virus and Fear, in particular, were awful about it. And even Mute could be… Discerning. And far too much so.

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer, though.

_ A: You are the only motherfucker there I trust with him. _

The proper capitalization gave him some pause. Anti really was serious about this ― and admitting trust to Dark? That was a heavy admission in a place like this.

He hadn’t yet come up with a good reply by the time he got another message.

_ A: The information I am about to give you stays between us. Or else. But I’m going to put it very, very simply: you will make sure none of those fuckers gets anywhere near my little brother, or I will take great pleasure in tearing you apart. You are the only motherfucker I trust with him, do NOT fuck that up for yourself. _

_ A: Am I understood? _

He blinked at the message, comprehending it slowly. That  _ did  _ match up with what Jack had said earlier, about them growing up together, and it accounted for most (if not  _ all) _ of their dynamic if he was honest. And he hated it when one of his first thoughts was to be thankful not everyone had awful older siblings ― that Anti was apparently, despite being an  _ actual hitman,  _ a better person than Celine had ever been. Concerned for his brother even now, and willing to threaten Dark of all people over Jack’s safety.

_ D: Of course. He’ll be completely safe. _

_ A: He had better be. _

He took a breath as he sat back down at his desk at last, noticing Jack had already gotten his desk set up again despite having completely cleared everything off of it before lunch. He really was efficient.

“I suppose I can’t blame him,” He said, waking his own computer from sleep mode and not looking at Jack, “For being concerned what the others who work with us may do if they caught you unaware.”

Jack hummed. “I guess.” He paused, looking up, and Dark only saw it from the corner of his eye, “... Then why isn’t he worried about the same from you?”

“Apparently,” He said, carefully, “He trusts me. And I’ve no intentions of crossing either him or you, so I suppose it’s not unfounded.”

“You suppose,” He didn’t seem thrilled by the answer, but he nodded nonetheless, slowly, “... Well  _ I _ suppose that’s better than nothing.”

“Personally I’m rather convinced he’ll flay me alive if I allow you out of my sight for too long, and I do like having my body all in one piece.” He finally allowed himself to look at him, and was struck almost immediately with how intense his gaze was. “What do you propose we do about his paranoia?”

Jack blinked, brows furrowed a bit, and, “You’re asking  _ me _ what to do?”

“The way I see it, you’ll be the most inconvenienced by it. It only makes sense to ask you what will make it less inconveniencing to you, or at least more bearable.”

Jack stared at him, then slowly nodded again. After a moment of considering that, he sighed. But he seemed to smile just a little bit. “I suppose me literally sticking around you or someone you trust is about the best we can do. We’re probably best off bunking together.”

“I trust no one ― if you want it done right, after all…”

The Irishman laughed, hiding his smile behind a fist once more. “So, what? I’m stuck living with you for two months?”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Dark shrugged and internally winced when he realized he’d done it, “It’s a secure location and I have plenty of room. You could at least have enough space to breathe there without me having to watch your every move ― if any of these peons got onto the property, let alone into the house, without me wanting them there, they’d be shot.”

“... Doesn’t sound awful.” He sighed, “Alright, sure. I’ve got stuff back home I need to grab, in that case. Hope you like plants.”

“A few plants would hardly hurt the place, or me.”

Jack’s expression cracked, smile finding its way onto his face once more, and Dark hated that it was charming. Still, it wasn’t anything he needed to shy away from. He was a professional, and he could keep his interests in line.

Should something happen between he and Jack, it would be nothing more than a casual fling ― he promised himself that, here and now.

It wouldn’t be difficult.

They would hardly see each other more than a few times a month once Anti returned.

Still, he picked up his phone ― his personal phone, rather than the landline on his desk ― and sent off a text to his staff to have a room made up and to be prepared to make meals for two for a time unless otherwise informed. Thankfully, he knew they worked fast and though he hardly trusted a single one of them, they knew any betrayal would be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. In fact, he believed he’d warned them all that he’d give Anti a carte blanche with them.

So he off-handedly added that a close associate of Anti’s, who he was very protective of, would be the one staying.

That text, of course, received a swift reply stating they would ensure he was taken care of.

_ D: Good. _

And they spent the rest of the afternoon in relative silence while they slogged through their individual work.

Their arrival at Dark’s manor was preceded, of course, by a visit to Jack’s tiny apartment to grab his things. Dark had not been invited inside to assist, but he knew the building and he knew the neighborhood ― the apartment would be tiny, and he likely didn’t invest in many material possessions. The money he made certainly gave him room to move into a better place, but Dark imagined that the same desperation that brought him to join his brother in this business likely spurred him into ensuring he didn’t needlessly waste money.

Jack needed only four trips into the apartment to procure his belongings: one trip for his suitcase and two other bags Dark politely did not ask the contents of, three for his houseplants. Dark did assist in placing the plants carefully into the car, and Jack seemed to appreciate his delicate handling of them.

Inevitably, however, they did reach his manor, and he saw Jack’s eyes go wide as soon as they came upon the gate. His jaw went somewhat slack, a few moments later, when they’d entered the gate and driven up the long, winding road through the trees, and the manor itself came into view.

“Jesus H. Christ,” He uttered, staring as if unsure of how to wrap his brain around the sight before him, “I knew you were loaded, but…”

“I have been doing this for a very long time,” Dark chose to say, fighting to keep the self-satisfied smirk off his face and out of his voice, “It’s not quite as lavish as my family would have hoped, I think, but it certainly serves its purpose.”

Jack shook his head, blinking, and licked his lips.

“Intimidation?” He guessed, “Because I’d say as far as a fuckin’ house goes this does more than ‘serve its purpose’.”

Again, he had to fight the urge to smirk ― or worse, smile. “Intimidation is one of the primary purposes, yes.”

Jack outright snorted at that. “Is the other jerkin’ your own dick?”

“I believe Anti referred to it as ‘flexing on the haters’ once, but… Well… Yes.”

That one seemed to break the poor Irishman, as he dropped his face into his hands and shook with barely suppressed snickering. Dark bit down on the inside of his lip to avoid smirking, once more. Jack’s laugh was infectious much in the same way that Anti’s was ― strangely, however, Dark had a harder time ignoring Jack’s.

He would learn to work with it.

“Oliver,” He said, as he got out of the car, “Assist our guest in taking his things to the room.”

“Of course, sir.” Said the man who had been waiting patiently for them on the front steps.

Jack had scarcely stepped out, one bag over his shoulder, before Oliver was gathering up a couple of the potted plants and briskly heading inside with them. Looking a little thrown off already, he looked to Dark, who could only let his lips quirk up.

“He’s efficient,” He said, simply, “Incredibly so.”

“I can see that.” Jack uttered, shaking his head and hefting his suitcase. “Should I just… Follow him?”

“It’d be your best bet. I don’t know which room they’ve prepared for you.”

And off Jack was, up the stairs and inside, thankfully not too far behind Oliver. Dark headed inside, himself, content to allow Jack and Oliver to deal with the relocation of the plants and Jack’s other belongings. He didn’t get as much work as he did done by performing tasks he could allow others to do for him, after all. And besides… It was always best to let Oliver do as much as he could ― he got frustrated when there was little to be done.

Hopefully, Jack would be settled in and acquainted with the house (or at least his room) by dinner tonight. It wouldn’t do to have him too off-balance when the time rolled around ― the chef’s cooking wasn’t something you wanted to be out of your head when you ate. It’d be a shame for Jack’s first experience with such stellar food to be lackluster.

Nothing much he could do about it, however, he was afraid.

At least the primary issue had been dealt with, and Anti would not have to separate any of Dark’s body parts from one another when he returned two months from now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I don't know when I'll get the chance to continue this! But it's gonna be completed, I promise.
> 
> Let me know what y'all thought! And as always, feel free to come yell at me on my [tumblr](fusion-ego.tumblr.com)!


End file.
